It’s not every day that I get to think to myself: “Dear God, Brandon you made a GREAT decision.” So I was pretty elated when this happened twice in Morocco. Especially elated when considering my Moroccan circumstances.

(Its been a while so I’ll review: Dave and I are in Morocco, nothing is going our way, we have no money and no explanation of why our Debit cards wont work, and now have spent every last dime to take a 12 hour train deeper into the heart of Morocco with no idea what we will do when we get there.)

We got on the train and our hearts immediately sank. 12 hours of sitting in conditions as these were enough to dampen anyones spirits. Just about every seat was taken, people, babies, luggage, all jammed in, in impossible formations on the wooden church pew like seats. Sardines have more breathing room. Not that you’d want to breath in the hot-aired mixture of body odor and spice. This train car was about 15 degrees hotter then the outside from all the bodies and commotion.

We were approached by an attendant who’s discontorted face looked like I imagine it would if his house was on fire and he couldn’t find his cat. He wiped his sweaty brow as a child began vomiting in the back aisle of the car. “Billets?” he asked wondering how he was supposed to fit more in. We handed him our tickets, “Oh no, no, no,” he said shaking his head, “dis way” and proceeded to take us out of the standard class cabin into first class. It was like leaving earth for heaven. First class was air conditioned, quite, and a very polite attendant escorted us to our seats in a private booth. Besides us there were only 4 other seats, all of them empty. The seats were soft and covered in wonderfully inviting foam. We had climate control at our finger tips, privacy curtains, plenty of room for storage, and SILENCE! It was a night and day difference all for something like $10 more. David and I high-fived sharing the same thought: The first class tickets WERE a great idea!

Our next idea was also the same. “What if,” we mussed, “no one else came in here? Then we could put the armrest up and lay down.” “I really doubt that so lets not get our hopes up…” I said, taking the we-can’t-have-our-cake-and-eat-it-too stance. “But, I do think we should close these window shades and turn off the lights so people assume it’s all full.” And so we did, both of us throwing nervous glances at each-other whenever footsteps sounded outside the door. But no one dared to come in. And soon enough the train was moving, and we relaxed a little, but still worried anytime we heard a door open or footsteps. We felt like hiding refugees.

That comradeare didn’t last because for the rest of the trip we had two very different trains of thought. You see an attendant came into our private little heaven and in French kinda conveyed the idea that we were not to have to have this little car all to ourselves. We pretended like anyone was welcome to join us but as soon as he was gone our body language said something completely different. So for the rest of the trip every time the train stopped I jumped up and sat up in my seat pretending I wasn’t just sleeping on three chairs. When the attendant would poke his head in I would smile and kinda shrug sheepishly. David on the other hand, slept solidly for the whole trip. I hate how easy it is for him to fall asleep.

But he did pull his weight. At one of the stops my nerves had had too much so I went to hide in the bathroom so I didn’t have to mean-mug anyone coming into “our” cabin. David stayed and was woken up by a younger couple who came to sit down. He was less then pleasant with them. The girl in Arabic and body language commented on how cold it was in the cabin, so David pretended to misinterpret it and said: “Yeah the cold is good isn’t it!” did a thumbs up and then turned up the AC a little more. Awkward silence ensued. David decided to freak them out a bit by just staring at them…. It worked and soon they were muttering to each other. At this point David sealed the nail in the coffin and asked to see their “Billets” for their seats. They got the not so subtle hint and found seats in a different cabin by the time I came out of hiding in the bathroom and David relayed the experience to me. I felt a little bad for them, but I did selfishly enjoy being able to sleep for a little bit.

In the morning we reached our destination and the attendant came and lectured us again in French for being the only ones in the cabin designed for six. We pretended like we had no idea why people wouldn’t sit with us but felt more than a little bit bad at our American selfishness. I think I would have felt worse if I knew more French.

I’m starting to feel a bit like Moses with recording this unflattering posts of myself…